


My Inamorato Defenestrated Us Both

by TentativeWanderer



Series: Out for Blood: A YOI Vampire AU [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Humor, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Sexual Assault, Because there's a vampire in town, But that particular attempt ended there because the victim smashed the perpetrator's jaw, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Doctor Katsuki Yuuri, Forbidden Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mentions of Death, Original Character Death(s), The fic isn't as dark as the tags make it seem, Vampire Victor Nikiforov, Vampires, very brief mention of suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 16:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15562179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TentativeWanderer/pseuds/TentativeWanderer
Summary: BLOODSUCKER CLAIMS NEW VICTIM: HEART SURGEON KIDNAPPED ON WEDDING NIGHTLocal predator Viktor Nikiforov strikes again, but with a daring move that deviates from his modus operandi—to devastatingly scandalous effect. On Saturday night, Dr Katsuki Yuuri, 27, whose medical expertise and excellent bedside manner has earned him a reputation as one of the nation’s top physicians despite his relatively young age, was snatched from the arms of his intended at the Hotel Grande Prix by Nikiforov, who ferociously descended upon Katsuki just before the poor gentleman could say “I do”. After making the menacing pronouncement that he had “come to take what was rightfully his”, Nikiforov once again displayed his vampiric penchant for flamboyant destruction by shattering the champagne tower, and made his dramatic escape by swinging out of the window with the unfortunate bridegroom under his arm.Nobody was harmed at the scene, but armed guards are now patrolling the hotel as a precautionary measure. The whereabouts of Katsuki are currently unknown, but Lord Nishigori Hiroshi, father of the bride Nishigori Yuuko, says that he will go to any lengths to find and secure Katsuki.





	My Inamorato Defenestrated Us Both

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiaronna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiaronna/gifts).



> Vampire AU inspired by [this intriguing pic](https://myfanworks.tumblr.com/post/159720726935/victuuri-at-wedding-night-an-evil-vampire) drawn by [myfanworks](https://myfanworks.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> This fic is roughly 65-70% of the content I planned in my head, but because it's already very long and because real life is biting my butt, I'm leaving it as it is now. HOWEVER! An important part (the most important part?) of the ending has already been established at the beginning of the fic and in myfanworks’ pic: vampire grabs his lover, jumps out of the window, and they swing off towards a happy resolution. Maybe, just maybe, if a shooting star with a rainbow-coloured tail flies past, I'll have time to write Part 2.
> 
> 95% of what exists here is proper fic and 5% towards the end is “brief writing style” fic because of my time constraints.
> 
> Not set in any one era in history, but it’s definitely not 2018.
> 
> I don't know if it's socially acceptable to gift fics to people we don't know, but...since this is my first fic, I'll gift it to the author of one of the first fics I read and loved in the YOI fandom: kiaronna.
> 
> Let's go!

**BLOODSUCKER CLAIMS NEW VICTIM: HEART SURGEON KIDNAPPED ON WEDDING NIGHT**

Local predator Viktor Nikiforov strikes again, but with a daring move that deviates from his modus operandi—to devastatingly scandalous effect. On Saturday night, Dr Katsuki Yuuri, 27, whose medical expertise and excellent bedside manner has earned him a reputation as one of the nation’s top physicians despite his relatively young age, was snatched from the arms of his intended at the Hotel Grande Prix by Nikiforov, who ferociously descended upon Katsuki just before the poor gentleman could say “I do”. After making the menacing pronouncement that he had “come to take what was rightfully his”, Nikiforov once again displayed his vampiric penchant for flamboyant destruction by shattering the champagne tower, and made his dramatic escape by swinging out of the window with the unfortunate bridegroom under his arm.

Nobody was harmed at the scene, but armed guards are now patrolling the hotel as a precautionary measure. The whereabouts of Katsuki are currently unknown, but Lord Nishigori Hiroshi, father of the bride Nishigori Yuuko, says that he will go to any lengths to find and secure Katsuki.

* * *

_17 years before the kidnapping..._

Katsuki Yuuri’s life as an unassuming village boy in sleepy, coastal Hasetsu came to an unexpected end when he rescued the little heiress of the illustrious Nishigori family from a watery death. Granted, she had been trying to rescue him first.

Smaller and quieter than most boys his age, ten-year-old Yuuri was a regular target for bullies. But he was not a complete pushover, figuratively and literally; with fists, legs and teeth, he vigorously objected to being shoved over a cliff into the ocean on that fateful day. It just so happened that Nishigori Yuuko, whose family had taken up residence in gorgeous Hasetsu Castle for their summer vacation, had been within earshot of Yuuri’s yells and made a valiant attempt at rescuing her recently-acquired friend. The scuffle resulted in both of them tripping and tumbling into Poseidon’s embrace, screaming and clinging to each other for dear life.

Fortunately, the cliff wasn’t too high, but the impact still hurt like hell. Having lived by the sea his whole life, Yuuri could swim, but Yuuko couldn’t. Yuuri had to drag her to shore and pump salt water from her lungs in a panicked frenzy, fervently thanking his parents for teaching him first aid. His ministrations miraculously paid off and brought him to the attention of one imposing Lord Nishigori.

Yuuri still remembered the eagle-eyed glint in the nobleman’s eyes as he grasped Yuuri’s face with bony hands, surveying Yuuri as critically as a police officer inspects a suspect.

That night, the Katsuki parents were summoned to Hasetsu Castle to discuss a one-in-a-million-years opportunity for their son: the Nishigoris would take Yuuri along when they returned to the capital and raise him to be a fine young gentleman. His daily necessities, education expenses, and a trip home once every three years would be covered by the Nishigoris until Yuuri earned enough to fend for himself in high society. In exchange, forty per cent of his annual income for the next twenty years after he achieved financial independence would go into the Nishigoris’ coffers…and he must be wedded to Nishigori Yuuko before his thirtieth birthday.

“Yuuri’s academic reports from the village school—" Lord Nishigori’s thin lips thinned even more, as if he could hardly bestow the title of “school” upon the shabby building. “—are…admirable, considering his rough background. His physical features are also sophisticated enough to at least impersonate a member of the aristocracy.”

Though it was never explicitly stated, throughout the years it became clear that gratitude had little to no role in influencing Lord Nishigori’s offer. Yuuri had no objection to that; he didn’t deserve gratitude for saving someone who was trying to save him. Lord Nishigori’s motivations were cold, calculated and practical; he wanted a son-in-law who was intelligent enough to help his daughter manage the family’s finances and investments, but who was also unswervingly loyal and obedient, made beholden to the Nishigoris via years of upbringing and debt. Someone poor and malleable was easier to keep on a leash than a demanding and wealthy scion of another noble family, even if the latter was more appropriate for Yuuko’s station. In Lord Nishigori’s eyes, Yuuri was an investment, nothing more, nothing less.

Katsuki Hiroko and Toshiya experienced a great deal of anguish at sacrificing their son’s freedom of choice in matrimony, but they ultimately reached the conclusion that Yuuri’s future would be brighter beneath the city lights of Caloberna than under the dim canopy of stars in the crumbling Hasetsu countryside. 

* * *

_2 years before the kidnapping…_

So here Yuuri was, in a sleek midnight blue dinner jacket and polished leather shoes, pretending to be a gentleman at a ball filled with authentic gentlemen and ladies, feeling almost as awkward as he had been when he was a boy.

“Mr Katsuki,” drawled a velvet voice, each syllable dripping with sensuality. “Lovely as always.”

Yuuri surreptitiously dodged a wandering hand with the ease of practice and experience. “Um, thank you? Hello to you too, Chris.”

Resplendent in bordeaux satin and sporting artfully tousled hair, Lord Christophe Giacometti was the organiser of tonight’s festivities. Only slightly older than Yuuri, he was an incorrigible flirt, like it was hardwired into his genes, but tastefully so; he always knew when to take things further and when to stop. Gently swirling a glass of wine, he leaned against the wall next to Yuuri with catlike ease.

“I’m deeply sorry to hear that Lady Nishigori isn’t well. Her absence must put a damper on the ball for you, but I hope you can take the chance to mingle with the crowd. Establish yourself as a physician who provides the level of service expected by nobility. You know how picky some people are,” Chris added in an undertone.

Yuuri couldn’t tell Chris that he was grateful for Chris’ concern, from the bottom of his heart, but that what he most wanted to do was to go back to the Nishigori mansion and finish writing his article _about_ hearts; more specifically, about atrial fibrillation after transhiatal esophagectomy with transcervical endoscopic esophageal mobilization. He settled for: “I know. Thank you, Chris. Small talk really isn’t my forte, but I’ll try.”

Chris good-naturedly clapped him on the shoulder. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

With that, Yuuri was left to his own devices.

After much bravery and many, many missed opportunities, he managed to engage in chatter with two young industrialists in shimmering gowns, three stout landowners with moustaches of varying degrees of pompousness and (finally!) an old doctor. Just as he turned around, head whirring after a delightful conversation on retrograde type A dissection following complex hybrid endovascular surgery, he whumped against a broad-shouldered, white-suited back.

“Ah, sorry…” Yuuri’s words died in his mouth as his eyes focused on a long, silky ponytail almost as pale as the suit. The person turned, and Yuuri’s mind blanked out.

Silvery strands of stray hair framed an elegant jawline and fine nose. Blue eyes holding the depths of a mysterious lake blinked at Yuuri curiously, the man’s lips hinting at a relaxed smile.

Suddenly angels started to sing, and after a few moments Yuuri realised that it was just the sound of violins.

A hand was offered to him, palm facing upwards. “Can I have this dance?” asked the fairy king in front of him.

Yuuri mentally slapped himself awake and took the proffered hand, which was pleasantly cool beneath his fingers.

As they glided across the floor, weaving a wandering path through the other pairs of dancers, the man said, “I heard you talking to Madame Nguyen about retrograde type A aortic dissection.”

Yuuri perked up from his dazed internal veneration of the gods for creating a being possessing such beauty on earth. “Are you a doctor?”

“Unfortunately, I’m not. I just memorised that phrase from your conversation. I only understood that you were talking about hearts.” The man’s smile widened. “A surprising topic for a ball.”

“I suppose it’s strange. But it was the best conversation I’ve had tonight.”

“I could tell. You were so passionate, you made me wish I knew more about medicine and biology so that I could have truly listened to everything you said. Well, as much as a layperson can.”

A warm feeling blossomed in Yuuri’s chest. “If you’re really interested, I can explain it in simple terms.” Just after he said that, Yuuri started to worry that the man would think that Yuuri thought he was slow, and Yuuri would wither beneath his displeased cerulean stare and sink into the abyss of shame.

“Do.” The stare was there, but it was not displeased; it was intent, inviting.

It was the trigger for Yuuri to launch into a medical tirade (but in baby words). Composing coherent explanations without slipping into technical terminology while dancing at the same time was taxing, but Yuuri tried his best under the twin spells of the god of medicine and the charming blue eyes fixed upon him. The man seemed to understand, nodding and asking the right questions at intervals.

One dance ended, and another began. Slowly, they drifted into other topics.

Yuuri learned that the other man’s name was Viktor, and that he had recently moved to the capital. He lived alone in a house in the woods on the edge of the city, near a large pool where black swans swam.

“That sounds peaceful, but a little lonely.”

“Neighbours tend to be afraid of me.” Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Yuuri thought he saw a glint in Viktor’s eye as he tilted his head enigmatically. Before Yuuri could ask further, Viktor said: “I sing in the bathroom. I’ve been told that it’s terrifying to hear.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh. “What else do you enjoy, besides staging a concert in the bath?”

“I like to read and write. Poems, plays, stories, whatever catches my fancy. Things that let us dream.” Viktor led Yuuri into a spin, and when he caught Yuuri again, clear eyes sparkling, Yuuri thought hazily, _Like this? Because you are a dream._

Viktor continued: “But I like non-fiction too, because politics and international affairs are also stories, but happening in real life. What do you like, Yuuri?”

“I prefer fiction for casual reading material.” Yuuri said. “Too much non-fiction already in academic papers and work.” He sighed. “It would be nice if we could write out our lives like fairytales. Give everyone a happy ending, or happy non-ending. Happy continuity, ever after, no ending. I see too much ending in my line of work. Especially the poorer patients…they can’t afford treatments sometimes, so they choose to waste away rather than burden their families with debt. And all of this is happening while the rich attend lavish balls and parties.” He quickly looked up at Viktor. “Sorry. I’m such a hypocrite. And a wet blanket.”

“But you are self-aware! It is a good thing.” Viktor replied cheerily.

Yuuri didn’t know what to make of that.

“And caring about your patients doesn’t mean you are a wet blanket. If I may say so, you seem young, for a physician. How old are you?”

“Twenty-five. I graduated and did my internship early. Just became a fully-fledged surgeon last year.”

“Wow!”

Now Yuuri was embarrassed. “No, no wow. You are more wow. I must read your works one day. I’ll even try your non-fiction books.”

“They’re written anonymously, because I’m shy.” Viktor winked, making Yuuri laugh. If Viktor was shy, then what was Yuuri?  

As the last notes of the song hung in the air, Viktor gave him an unreadable look. “But what was that you said earlier, Yuuri? Writing out fairytale-like lives and giving everyone happy non-endings? Tempting, but only on paper. Non-endings in the real world come at a high price.”

The dance drew to a close, and Yuuri was left to ponder Viktor’s perplexing statement while Viktor went off to get them some refreshments.

As Yuuri plopped down on a couch in a secluded spot, he could see heads turn as Viktor swept across the hall. He wondered what on earth made Viktor take an interest in a dime-a-dozen doctor like Yuuri.

Someone sank onto the seat next to him. “Mr Katsuki. You are captivating tonight.”

Yuuri was dabbing off sweat from his forehead and his face must have been blotchy red. He was probably as far from captivating as the moon was far from the earth. He turned to see who had a problem with their eyesight.

A middle-aged man beamed at him. Yuuri gave him a weak smile.

Half-moon glasses, a tall stature and grey streaks in his hair gave Lord Addington a faintly distinguished look, belying his reputation as a playboy. He grinned at Yuuri.

“Have the Nishigoris been treating you well? Lord Nishigori made a wise decision in sponsoring your lessons. Such a fine young man for his daughter, though I don’t see why he didn’t just ask for your hand in marriage himself, considering that his wife passed away long ago.” Lord Addington’s look turned sly as he patted Yuuri’s hand, lingering longer than was welcome.

“I was ten,” Yuuri responded tersely, angling away from Addington’s advances. Unlike Chris, who knew where to draw the line, Addington never stopped even when it was clear that the other party was uncomfortable.

“Mmm, hindsight is fifty-fifty.” Lord Addington moved closer. “Since your fiancée is absent tonight, it would be a waste of an opportunity if you didn’t…get to know other people,” he almost whispered beside Yuuri’s ear, one hand on Yuuri’s back.

“I _am_ getting to know other people, just _not you_ ,” Yuuri snapped when Addington’s other hand crept up his thigh. A hard shove, and the lord’s glasses dangled crookedly from one ear. “I’m warning you, hands _off_!”

As the blood pounded in his ears, he vaguely heard someone call his name.

Lord Addington’s eyes turned flinty as he reached for Yuuri again. “Come now, there’s no need to overreact—”

“I AM NOT OVERREACTING!” Yuuri grabbed the hand on his wrist and furiously jabbed his thumb into the fragile spot between Addington’s thumb and forefinger to loosen the man’s grip. Lightning quick, he twisted Lord Addington’s arm in a painful outwards motion away from the lecher’s body and rammed his elbow beneath Addington’s jaw.

People came running to the scene, drawn by Yuuri’s yell.

Yuuri scrambled up and pointed a trembling finger at the groaning man. “Don’t you dare touch me that way again. Or anyone else for that matter!”

He pushed past the alarmed spectators and stormed out of the room.

The air outside was cool and pleasant against Yuuri’s flushed cheeks. In the beautiful gardens of the Giacometti estate, he heard a voice call him again.

Yuuri turned abruptly. Viktor came to sudden halt a few feet away. Some of the champagne in the glasses he was carrying sloshed over his hands.

Yuuri stared blankly before he realised that he had just dumped his dance partner. “I’m sorry!” He took one of the champagne glasses and drew out a handkerchief. Realising that the handkerchief was stained with sweat, he stuffed it into a pocket and took another out to wipe off the sticky golden liquid dripping from Viktor’s wrists.

“Why are you sorry?” Viktor sounded so bewildered that Yuuri looked up.

“I left without telling you? And then made you spill this?”

Viktor’s brow knitted. “After what happened, you had the right to leave. And I spilled the drinks myself.”

“Oh god, I was so angry wasn’t I, so many people were looking, I made a mess and now Chris has to deal with the fallout, I shouldn’t have—"

“You should have! You did! It was amazing, Yuuri!”

Yuuri paused. “What.”

“Amazing. I was going to step in, but then you smashed his jaw.” Viktor sighed dreamily. “I do admire a man who—”

He stopped himself, face suddenly stricken.

“But you have a fiancée.” Viktor sounded hollow. Heart sinking, Yuuri realised that Viktor must have heard Lord Addington mention Yuuko just before the conflict.

“…Yes. But…it’s complicated.” Yuuri lowered his voice. “Because she—” Now it was Yuuri’s turn to stop himself. He couldn’t tell someone he just met a few hours ago that his fiancée might be falling in love with someone else, namely her bodyguard. He looked at Viktor pleadingly. “I can’t tell you. All I can say is that my marriage to Yuuko will be one of convenience and not love, though she’s a very close friend. But even this…please don’t tell anyone.” Many already knew that Yuuri was “adopted” into the Nishigori family as a future son-in-law when he was a boy, but it was different if Yuuri himself admitted to someone that the arrangement was devoid of matrimonial affection.

Yuuri ducked his head. “If you cannot believe me, I understand. And…” He swallowed. “And I shouldn’t have led you on. Did I? I didn’t think I would, there were so many accomplished and high-born people in there, it would be incredibly arrogant of me to assume that I’m more than a passing interest to you. But in case I did, I am very sorry.”

Only now did he realise that what he wanted was to get to know Viktor as more than a mere acquaintance, and maybe, dare he think it, more than a friend. It was audacious and unethical of him to even imagine breaking off his contract with the Nishigoris after they gave him a life he never would have known had he remained in Hasetsu. Yuuko might not be too upset, but Lord Nishigori would blow his top if his long-term investment in Yuuri didn’t bear fruit. Worse, the scandal would tarnish the Nishigori name in aristocratic circles if the Nishigori heiress’ fiancé ran off with someone else.

Yuuri never knew that losing someone he never had in the first place would hurt like this. Unable to look Viktor in the eye, he shoved his champagne glass back to Viktor and bowed deeply. “I wish I had known you longer before this happened. I am so, so glad to have met you, Viktor. Please enjoy the rest of your night.”

Before Viktor could say a word, Yuuri fled.

* * *

That night, Lord Addington went to bed and never got up again.

The next morning, the maids noticed that the house had been ransacked. Gold chalices, jewellery, and small paintings had vanished. As the servants frantically conducted a search, a scream echoed throughout the house.

Lord Addington’s valet had just discovered that his master was dead.

The body was as wrinkled as a prune and as white as the sheets which covered it. To the servants’ horror, two puncture wounds were found on Addington’s neck.

“A vampire,” breathed the valet.

“Nonsense!” barked the butler. “Get your head out of your Gothic horror novels. Our lord has probably been injected with some poisonous substance. Call the police!”

“An injection wouldn’t leave two holes!” wailed a maid.

Before the butler could cuff her ear, another maid timidly put in her two cents: “All the gold utensils and chalices were stolen, but the silver ones are still here…Even the jewel-studded ones…”

There was a brief silence before the household descended into pandemonium. 

* * *

The news spread like wildfire throughout Caloberna.

The more superstitious households put up silver crosses in their bedrooms and hung garlic from the windows. But one week later, the terror increased, because the lady of one such household was found dead in a similar condition as Lord Addington.

No more deaths followed those two in the subsequent five months, but the fear did not abate, because a number of noblemen and noblewomen were attacked in the night. Because they survived, they could describe the beast that robbed them of their blood and valuables.

Yuuri, rushing past a newsstand on the way to the hospital, had the shock of his life. On the front page of a tabloid, an elegant, familiar visage stared through his soul.

**FACE OF THE MONSTER**

The vampire preying on members of the aristocracy has been identified. Based on descriptions given by the survivors, renowned artist Leo de la Iglesia has produced a portrait of the predator.

One cannot judge a book by its cover. Looking at the cerulean eyes, pale hair and exquisite features, one wouldn’t suspect that the elfin face in the picture belongs to someone – something – on the far more sinister end of the spectrum of mythical creatures.

He calls himself Viktor Nikiforov.

This comes from the mouths of several victims who communicated with him. All of them – excluding the deceased Lord Addington and Lady Sami – reported seeing or even interacting with the vampire at most two days from the night of each attack.

“Each sighting and interaction occurred in different types of places,” says Deputy Chief Inspector Cao Bin. “Bars, galas, a restaurant, hotels, a back alley, an office, even a hot spring.”

What kind of interactions, exactly? The victims declined to comment in detail, but we have gathered that Nikiforov was something of a charmer. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing,” trembled one lady, who shall remain unnamed for fear of revenge. “A devil dolled up in gallantry and mystery. I was gravely mistaken when I took him for a gentleman.”

Is there a pattern in his selection of victims? According to Cao, “Most are of a high societal rank and/or have amassed large fortunes, but one middle-class man and one poor butcher have also been attacked, though not robbed. That’s all we can say.”

We at The Tattle suspect that there may be more that Cao is unable to reveal, perhaps due to commands from the higher-ups to keep some things hush-hush. Several sources employed by the victims’ households informed us that threatening messages were found after the night of each attack.

“I can’t tell you the exact content of the message ‘cause I’d probs be booted out if my boss ever found out, but it was scandalous. And decorated real pretty, blue roses at the borders. There were roses on milord’s bed too.”

“There were a few pieces written on parchment, framed and hung on the same spots where some pictures used to be before they were stolen. He wrote them in one of those fancy cursive styles. Oh, and there was a daisy chain hanging from the cross on the master’s window.”

“All the gold cutlery was taken out and arranged on the floor one by one, like a trail leading from the window in the room next door all the way to milady’s bed. That window had been locked every night since Lord Addington’s death, I don’t know how he got in! The lady was lying on her side. Her cheek was on a gold platter.”

“It was just eerie. He used red paint to draw gigantic loops on all the flat surfaces in the bedroom – walls, tables, cupboards, even the ceiling. The place was festooned with red balloons and streamers, like some bizarre birthday party. The worst was the ornamental sword – it was supposed to be in the grand hall – now hanging on the wall above the bed, pointy end facing downwards at my lady, with a long red ribbon winding around the blade. The lady’s maid found her holding a letter written in red ink.”

Fortunately, all the victims on whom Nikiforov inflicted his twisted ideas of home decor survived. (Lord Addington and Lady Sami were the first two victims and the only ones murdered. Their homes were robbed but no threats or “decorations” were left.) They were fatigued and frightened when they were woken from their slumber by servants – or relatives, in the case of the two common people – but they refused blood transfusions.

Silver crosses and garlic do not seem to deter Nikiforov when hung from doors and windows, but as he has refrained from stealing objects made of silver, perhaps sleeping with silver items is your best bet to stay safe. This is mere conjecture; we are not responsible for any harm you might incur should you put our opinion into practice.

If you have information about Nikiforov or have seen him at any time, contact the police immediately at 036-XXXXXXX.

* * *

Yuuri felt faint.

He spent the day like a clockwork toy, robotically doing what he was meant to do, but lifelessly.

Viktor was lifeless, technically. Viktor was a vampire. An undead body somehow moving and talking and beguiling and killing. No wonder his hands felt cool and he didn’t seem to sweat even after dancing so much.

Oh heavens, Yuuri had _danced_ with him. Did that mean he would be attacked? Even killed? No, too much time had passed. According to the report, Viktor always struck very soon after meeting the victim.

Then why had Viktor approached him? Was it simply to observe Lord Addington? No, there was no guarantee that Addington would have gotten close to Yuuri that night. So why?

He thought about Viktor telling him that neighbours would be afraid of him. _Non-endings come at a high price._

He thought about Viktor saying that Yuuri was amazing (he should have known how ludicrous that was). The impish curve of Viktor’s mouth when he informed Yuuri that he sang in the bath. Gazing so intently at Yuuri as Yuuri rambled about hearts and patients.

Was all of that a pretense?

_A charming wolf in sheep’s clothing._

But what for? Yuuri still hadn’t been drained of blood. Was there a need for Viktor to look as devastated as he did when he realised Yuuri was engaged?

A severely haemorrhaging patient was rushed into the operating theatre, and Yuuri could spare no more thoughts for vampires.

* * *

After hours and hours of arduous battle, Yuuri stumbled through the doors of the Nishigori mansion late at night.

He had a quick supper and went up to his bedroom. As he started to unbutton his shirt, he heard a loud _thump_ behind him. His blood froze.

There was something under his bed.

He grabbed the briefcase from his chair and spun round. The ends of the blankets fluttered a little, and so did the gauzy curtains. It was only then he noticed that the glass doors opening on to his balcony were slightly ajar.

There was someone, or something, under his bed.

Yuuri couldn’t get out of his room and escape to the hallway. If he rushed past the bed and turned his back on it, he might put himself at risk.

“Who’s there? I warn you, I’m armed,” Yuuri tightened his grip on the handle and positioned the briefcase in front him like a shield and a weapon.

A muffled groan came from the bottom of the bed, followed by another thump.

“Who’s there?” Yuuri called again, voice rising in panic.

More thumps, and a garbled sound. One pale, long-fingered hand, and then another, appeared from the shadows.

The thing – person, the remaining dregs of Yuuri’s sanity chanted, person – was trying to drag itself out.

Yuuri almost screamed, but before he could, he caught sight of a silver-haired head.

He knew that head.

Viktor Nikiforov lay panting on the floor, his torso and legs still hidden.

“Yuu…ri…” Viktor managed before he stopped moving altogether.

His hair was uneven and much shorter than before, as if some whacko had hacked at it with a scythe. His sleeves were torn, and Yuuri could see wounds and second-degree burns on his arms.

Yuuri was struck by the urge to run over and apply first aid treatment at once, but then he remembered that Viktor was a murderous wanted vampire who, on a good day, was probably multiple times stronger than a human being. Should he help, or should he get away and call the police for his own safety?

His inner conflict was disrupted by a knock on the door. “Yuuri!” someone chirped. It was Yuuko. “I heard you were back, so I’ve brought bird’s nest soup for you. A gift from Isabella.”

Eyes flitting between Viktor and the door, Yuuri stuttered, “Uh…err, give me a few seconds, I’m changing…”

Save or scram? Save or scram?

In his mind’s eye, he saw Viktor smiling appreciatively as he told Yuuri that caring about his patients didn’t make him a wet blanket. Those arms that had held Yuuri were now bloody and burned.

Yuuri didn’t take the Hippocratic Oath for nothing. Furthermore, many high-ranking members of society had a grudge against Viktor, and had a number of chief officers in their pockets; who knows what would happen to Viktor if he were in the hands of the police. He deserved a chance to explain himself.

Decision made, Yuuri pushed Viktor as carefully as he could back under the bed and whispered to him to hold on and stay quiet for a while. After making sure no bloodstains were visible on the floor, Yuuri opened the door.

Yuuko beamed as he thanked her while she put the bowl on the table. Before Yuuri could make an excuse to get her away from Viktor, she made herself comfortable on one of the plush chairs. “You look frazzled. Busy day?”

“Very, emergency at the end of my shift.” Yuuri had no choice but to sit down and take a shaky sip of the sweet delicacy. _And another patient currently waiting under my bed. He’s already dead, and vampires are supposed to be nigh unkillable so I don’t think he’s in immediate danger of becoming DEAD-dead yet – at least, I hope not. Oh no, can vampires’ wounds become infected? Please, please hang in there, Viktor._ Yuuko was looking at him a bit strangely, so he tried to calm his nerves and offered her a slightly contorted smile. “You must have been working hard too. Rosarita said you came back not too long before me.”

“Eh, the usual, a meeting just dragged on a little at the end. Had a good lunch at the new Moroccan restaurant near the office! Very private and tranquil. You’d like it.”

Yuuri saw through her instantly. “Any lunch is a good lunch when you’re on a discreet date with Takeshi.”

Yuuko laughed. “A bodyguard has to eat too, might as well eat together.” She levelled a sheepish gaze at Yuuri and took a deep breath. “Yuuri…tell me the truth. I’ll know if you don’t. How do you feel about me and Takeshi being like this?”

She was serious, so Yuuri did his best to gather his scrambled wits and give her a well-thought-out answer. “I…I think…I’m okay with it. I don’t mind. I’m happy that you’re happy when you’re with him.”

“Even though you and I are engaged?”

“Well, yes. Even if – hypothetically – even if your relationship became publicly known, and some people look down on you or me because of it, I’d still support you. You’re my best friend, you and Phichit. You’re in the lead now, because Phichit wants to smuggle his hamsters into the hospital and I have to keep an eye on him.”

“Yuuri!” Yuuko let out a relieved breath and practically sparkled at him. “Thank you so much.”

“But Lord Nishigori would be furious if he found out.”

Yuuko deflated. “I know. Takeshi knows. But now that we know you really aren’t upset, we’ve decided to hold on to every moment that we have. We might have to make a stand in front of Father in the future, but for now…it’s enough to have each other close.”

Unbidden, Yuuri’s eyes drifted to the bottom of the bed. “Yes.”

“Father’s already unhappy with me now anyway. He yelled at me today. We’ve been…disagreeing about things. Yuuri?”

Yuuri snapped back to attention. “A-aah? Yes?”

“Your eyes keep wandering to the bed…”

“Ah, ahahahah, it’s nothing, there’s nothing th—I mean, sorry!”

Realisation dawned upon Yuuko’s dainty face. “You must be exhausted! I’m sorry for keeping you up.” She got up. “Good night, Yuuri. Sweet dreams!”

After the sound of Yuuko’s footsteps faded, Yuuri locked the room door and balcony door and drew the curtains shut. He slowly dragged Viktor out and turned him to face upwards.

Hazy blue eyes roamed across Yuuri’s face as Viktor gave him a weak smile. “I’m happy.”

What? “Oh no, are you concussed?” Yuuri fretted as he peeled off Viktor’s shirt to check the extent of his injuries. There were more slashes and burns on Viktor’s front and back.

“No, but I think I might be falling in love,” Viktor mumbled vaguely, and added in such a low tone that Yuuri had to strain to hear it: _if what I just heard means that I stand a chance_. “Shall I swoon for you?”

He looked faint so Yuuri was sure he meant it literally. “Try not to,” Yuuri said as he rummaged through the limited medical supplies he had on hand. “How should I deal with vampire injuries?” It was astounding that Viktor was still able to speak when a human might have been unconscious or crippled by pain.

“Mmm…the normal human way may help a little. But it’s not really necessary, because what I need is blood.”

Yuuri froze and rigidly turned from his medical bag to aim a frightened stare at Viktor. “Are you here to take mine?”

Viktor visibly panicked, his blurry eyes sharpening. “No! I came because the Nishigori residence was closer than mine. I thought…” He faltered. “I thought, maybe, I could hide awhile at your place, just temporarily.” _I thought I might be safe with you_ , Viktor didn’t say, but Yuuri heard. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight, I was just trying to get away, I shou—"

“No, no, don’t apologise. But what should I do?”

“…Just treat me the human way?”

“Your injuries are extensive,” Yuuri said as he disinfected one of the largest wounds. “If you were a human, I’d have called an ambulance to get you to the hospital ASAP.” He paused. “But you…”

Biting his lip, Yuuri struggled for a few moments before asking: “If you…drink blood…how much would you need?”

Viktor’s eyes widened.

Yuuri waited.

Slowly, Viktor said: “I…don’t know how to tell you the exact amount, but…not too much? I can stop in such a way that the human doesn’t feel faint or weakened when she or he awakens…they might not realise that blood was taken unless they see the tiny scars on their skin. Even just a little bit helps me heal faster than humans. More would increase the rate of healing.”

“So it doesn’t hurt? And it doesn’t turn them into a vampire?”

“Not unless I make it so.”

“Ah, please don’t do that to me.” Yuuri’s fingers curled and loosened. Hesitantly, he asked: “Do you…want mine?”

Viktor stared at Yuuri as if Yuuri were the vampire. Finally, Viktor said: “If you’ll let me.”

“Right, okay, well, I’ll just…” Yuuri rolled up his sleeves, hooked one arm behind Viktor’s back and another beneath his knees and hoisted him onto the bed, positioning him such that he leaned comfortably against Yuuri’s pillows. “I’ll trust you to take only as much as is necessary. Must you…drink from the neck, or can you do it elsewhere?”

Viktor reached out. Cold, slim fingers grasped Yuuri’s wrist. “Is here alright?”

“Y-yeah, but hang on a moment.” Yuuri grabbed _The Tale of Genji_ from his bedside table and flipped to a random page. When Viktor’s eyebrows rose, Yuuri shot him a rueful glance before pointedly looking away. “Let me pretend that I am not offering myself up as vampire food.”

Very uncooperatively, Viktor said: “What was that you said before you drank the soup? Ah.”

“ _Itadakimasu_.”

* * *

One bloody meal later, Yuuri made Viktor sleep on his bed. Yuuri was debating whether to collapse on the couch or stay awake and alert lest Viktor decide to nibble on him in the middle of the night, but Viktor swore not to take a midnight snack and convinced him to sleep on the bed next to him.

The following day was Yuuri’s day off from the hospital. Usually he’d go to the Nishigori Corporation office to work, but he told Yuuko he had a massive headache and that he was sorry for having to take a leave of absence. Technically, he wasn’t lying; as he made a few phone calls in the adjoining study, there was a massive headache staring at him inquisitively from the bed, somehow managing to sprawl gracefully despite his wounds.

After checking Viktor’s injuries, Yuuri dug into the food that Mr Poppy brought to his room.

“Wow! Ice cream for breakfast!”

“Give me a break, it’s my cheat day,” mumbled Yuuri through a mouthful of dark chocolate ice cream.

But Viktor’s intention wasn’t to chide him. “I haven’t had ice cream since I stopped being human. The last time I ate it was…” Viktor placed a finger on his chin in thought. “200 B.C.! My family was visiting the imperial court of China. They served us ice cream.”

Yuuri stared at him, mouth open and spoon halfway there. _B.C.? Imperial court???_

Who the hell was Viktor and just how old was he?

Viktor grinned. “Kidding. I’m not that old. Ice cream is, though.”

“Viktor!”

Once breakfast was over, a lengthy interrogation began.

Viktor was captured when he was paying a visit to a noblewoman at night. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one out for blood. As a welcome party for Viktor, Lady Seth had prepared an ambush with a guest list consisting of fifty guards armed with weapons and shields wrought of silver. Lady Seth was the cousin of the deceased Lady Sami, so she took a particularly vicious delight in having Viktor cut with silver stakes and branded with silver rods heated over a fire.

Luckily for him, there was a full moon the next night. Viktor’s abilities received a boost, so he was able to take the guards by surprise and bust himself out. He hauled ass to the Nishigori mansion, where he located Yuuri’s room by smell and crawled under the bed.

“ _Smell_?... Okay.”

“Don’t take it personally Yuuri, everyone smells! At least, to me. They’re not necessarily bad smells.”

Why did he kill Lord Addington and Lady Sami? And why did he threaten the victims who survived, and rob and vandalise their homes?

According to Viktor, he needed to drink blood anyway, so he might as well guzzle the bad nuts. Though Emperor Lee Seung-gil had ascended to the throne and was in the process of dismantling the inefficient practices of the old regime, not enough time had passed for radical changes to set in. Members of the upper class still tended to be above the law, and some of them abused their positions – beat up commoners who crossed them, forced themselves on employees who were unable to say no, and generally treated those below them like dirt.

Viktor had heightened senses, so he could tell when such things happened, even behind closed doors. So he singled out these nobles and wealthy businesspeople to become his dinner, gave them an artistic scare, took their stuff to sell and gave the proceeds to the victims of his victims. As for the two commoners who were attacked, one was chosen because he beat his dog, the other because he beat his wife.

“Why do I feel that those aren’t the only reasons? You didn’t _have_ to decorate someone’s house with blue roses, and you didn’t need to stalk them first if you can…smell where people live.”

“…I admit that I am an attention seeker. I like drama. I like the suspense of a bad omen before the storm. And I was bored.”

The last sentence made Yuuri a little annoyed. Was Viktor fooling around with him? But then Yuuri thought: Viktor was almost immortal. When life was that long, it was possible that one would honestly find the days boring. Furthermore, what seemed unnecessarily dangerous and risky to Yuuri was not as dangerous to an immortal vampire.

“Okay. Okay. But what about Lord Addington and Lady Sami?”

Apparently, they warranted special treatment. Addington was a serial sexual predator, driving one of his victims to suicide and another to madness. Sami shared her cousin Lady Seth’s sadistic tendencies and enjoyed inflicting them on victims commonly sourced from slums.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” asked Yuuri. “I knew Lord Addington couldn’t keep his hands to himself, but I didn’t think he was that bad. Even Chris – Lord Giacometti – didn’t think it was inappropriate to invite him to the ball that day, though they’re not really on good terms.”

Viktor thought for a while, then said: “You work at the hospital. Would you happen to know a girl called Pia Garcia? Brown eyes, brown hair in a braid down her back, about twelve years old.”

Yuuri knew. Phichit, his best friend at the hospital, was a paediatrician. Pia had visited the hospital a few times half a year ago. Yuuri had seen her screaming at the top of her lungs at Phichit and the other doctors. “She alternates between utter silence and utter distress,” said Phichit tiredly. “And she won’t – can’t – tell us things.” Yuuri hadn’t ask what “things” meant in case there was patient confidentiality involved. But now…

“I found Pia and brought her back to her mother. I knew it was Addington.” Viktor tapped his nose. “And Mrs Garcia saw him take Pia away.”

“Why didn’t…” Yuuri stopped. He knew why Mrs Garcia didn’t report Addington. She may not have known how much or how little control Addington had over the police and judiciary, but she knew he could easily buy some of that control if he hadn’t already possessed it. A report would have been futile at best and dangerous at worst.

“That piece of shit,” said Yuuri eloquently.

“Dead,” said Viktor. 

* * *

From then on, Viktor made Yuuri’s room his personal hospital ward – with more gusto than Yuuri expected.

“Everything smells like you,” mumbled Viktor as he buried his face in Yuuri’s pillows and luxuriously lolled above and under Yuuri’s pure Egyptian cotton sheets. Yuuri worried a little, but he came to the conclusion that it was acceptable that the vampire was inhaling the scent on his bedspread rather than the scent on his neck.

Every night during the first one and a half weeks of Viktor’s recovery period, Yuuri changed his bandages and gave him a teeny bit of blood – much less than the first time, just enough to keep the healing process active. Yuuri was a surgeon; he couldn’t afford to deal with dizziness from blood loss. Yuuri also made Viktor swear not to prey on the other people in the house.

“Please,” said Yuuri, looking at Viktor straight in the eye. “I’d rather die than have them harmed because of me.”

“I give you my word that I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” said Viktor.

Whenever the maid came in to dust, he shapeshifted into a white dog. The servants came to know him as Vicchan, the poor injured stray fed and adopted by kind Master Yuuri. That wasn’t far from the truth.

Two weeks after Viktor appeared under his bed, Yuuri was puzzled when he opened his bedroom door after work and Viktor wasn’t there to tackle him. Four hours later, Yuuri was starting to worry about how he was going to track down a vampire wandering around with partially healed wounds when he heard two knocks on his balcony doors.

Bathed in moonlight, Viktor held out a bunch of bluebells. His hair had been cut short, a silvery fringe partially obscuring his left eye in a debonair fashion.

Numbly, Yuuri opened the doors and took the flowers with a mumbled thank you.

“You look really good.” Perfect, actually. If Yuuri were honest with himself, he’d say that Viktor looked good even when he had raggedy hair.

“Yuuri!” exclaimed Viktor. “How kind of you to say so. But I hope this is a bit more to your liking.”

Yuuri belatedly realised that he had muttered his thoughts out loud.

Ah, he had nothing to lose. Might as well ask: “Were you born like this, or did you modify your physical appearance after you turned into a vampire?”

Viktor sulked. “How could you suspect me like that?”

“Well, you can change into a dog. It’s possible that you’ve changed parts of your human body.”

“I can’t maintain a transformation forever,” sniffed Viktor. “At some point I have to revert. I can’t give you any proof, but I swear on my entire undead existence that right now, I am presented to you in my most bona fide form.”

When Viktor was three quarters recovered, he demanded to tag along to Yuuri’s workplace. In canine form, he’d snooze in a shady, unobtrusive corner in the small hospital garden. Vampires were nocturnal creatures; Viktor tended to get sleepy during daylight hours. Sleeping also conserved Viktor’s energy and made it much easier for him to hold his transmuted form for extended periods.

When Yuuri had his food break (not lunch break, because it wasn’t fixed at noon; being a surgeon did that to you), he’d take his tray from the cafeteria and sit on the garden bench.

He wouldn’t let Viktor lick him and climb onto his lap because he had to uphold the hospital’s hygiene standards, much to Viktor’s dismay, but Viktor took solace in the fact that Yuuri still talked to him about his workload, patients and random musings even though Viktor couldn’t talk back. As for Yuuri, he liked how responsive Vicchan was; dogs were expressive, but no dog could comprehend human language to such a great extent as Vicchan could, so it was nice and extra reassuring to know that when Vicchan grinned at Yuuri and headbutted his knee in congratulations for a good job, or when Vicchan gave him mournful puppy eyes, it was because he understood _why_ Yuuri felt the way he did and not just that he could sense how Yuuri felt.

Phichit accused him of sneaking out for dates during breaktime and Yuuri had to explain that he needed to accompany his dog for a while or else Vicchan would pine. This prompted raucous complaints from Phichit, who wailed that it was unfair that his hamsters had to pine at home.

Somehow, this became Yuuri’s life. He worked, met his dog for lunch, worked some more and walked back home at night with Vicchan trotting contentedly beside him.

One night while Yuuri was soaking in his bath before dinner, Viktor waltzed into the bathroom in his birthday suit.

“Yuuri! Let’s take a bath together!”

“Aaaaaaaaugh…Viktor! Please get out!” Yuuri frantically splashed the water in an effort to utilise froth to mask the parts not meant for eyes other than his own.

Viktor took two steps back. “I’ve been lying on the grass all day! I want to shower too.”

“You always shower when I go for dinner!” Yuuri valiantly fixed his eyes on Viktor’s face and not elsewhere.

Viktor’s toned physique disappeared, replaced by a mass of soft white fur.

Vicchan lowered his body to the ground. His pleading eyes gazed at Yuuri, as if he were saying: “Is _this_ okay?”

“…You’re still Viktor, you know…”

Vicchan whined plaintively, ears flattened against his head.

One internal struggle later, Yuuri caved in to the sad doggy expression.

Giving Vicchan a bath also became a part of Yuuri’s daily routine.

After bathing, if Yuuri wasn’t too late, he’d have dinner with the Nishigori family. He felt a little guilty and uneasy that he was harbouring a vampiric fugitive under their noses, but he didn’t want to boot Viktor out before he was completely hale. And he admitted that there was also a selfish element to his continuing decision to keep Viktor here; Viktor made his whole being feel lighter than before.

When Yuuri retired to his bedroom after dinner, Viktor would look up from perusing one of Yuuri’s books and give him a smile and a cup of matcha. Yuuri knew Viktor brewed it himself because a teapot, porcelain cups and tins of tea leaves had taken up residence on Yuuri’s shelf one week after Viktor’s appearance. After asking and learning that Yuuri also liked _longjing_ tea and jasmine tea, Viktor brewed each type in turn.

If Yuuri was tired after a long day…

“Let’s give you a massage, Yuuri!”

“Ahhh nonono. Thank you, but it’s okay, I don’t need it.” Yuuri wriggled away from Viktor’s grip, ears a bit red.

“Maybe you don’t _need_ it but it might make you feel better, yes? No harm trying!”

Eventually Yuuri gave in, and Viktor was right, it was kind of relaxing. So much so that Yuuri dozed off lying on his tummy, comforted by the rhythmic kneading motions on his back. Sometimes Viktor had to wake him up an hour later to go brush his teeth.

If Yuuri still had some energy after dinner, he’d curl up on his bed and talk to Viktor, who often occupied the couch rather than the bed during their conversations. Yuuri suspected that Viktor knew he was a relatively private person, especially before the vampire barged into his life, so he was trying to give him some space.

He found that Viktor’s mind worked in intriguing ways – unconventional, sometimes rather weird but sometimes rather brilliant. Yuuri thought, what was that phrase? “There is a fine line between genius and insanity”? Take a less extreme version of that, mix it with sizeable dollops of bluntness, a sprinkle of tactlessness and a dash of kindness, and you’d get Viktor Nikiforov – maybe. Who knows for certain how you get a Nikiforov.

It isn’t easy to get a read on someone decades older than you but who gets enthusiastic about random things like figure skating, the best type of _roti_ and the merits of alternative dispute resolution versus the adversarial trial. But Yuuri found himself liking what he learned about Viktor, pulled in deeper by an earnest gaze and considerate actions.

* * *

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Yuuri said one night.

Viktor’s hands stilled on Yuuri’s shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t need to do things for me like you’re trying to earn your keep here…I mean, you’re like my patient, and doctors are the ones who do things for patients, not the other way round. Um, I think you’re almost fully recovered, but still…I don’t want you to think that you need to pay me back or anything. I don’t know, am I assuming too much about you? Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I appreciate your reassurance very, very much.” Viktor thumbs pressed the stiff muscles of Yuuri’s back and applied a rotating pressure. “I’m doing things because I want to. Is that okay?”

“Mm, yeah.”

“But I also want to thank you for not tossing me out that night. What can I do for you, Yuuri?”

“You’re already doing it. Just be Viktor.” Yuuri turned around, meeting Viktor’s bemused frown. “I like…I like talking to you. I’m really bad – seriously, really bad – at talking to people and making friends, but with you, it feels okay.” Yuuri looked away because he knew his face was burning.

“You listen to me even when I’m complaining, feeling upset, saying something strange, or rambling about something obscure. And you always respond, even when you’re Vicchan, so it shows you’re always paying attention and I’m really happy that you haven’t lost interest.” _Yet._ “But please don’t force yourself.”

“When you’re Vicchan, you go up to strangers who look like they’re having a bad day and let them pet you.” It sounded ridiculous, but Yuuri thought it was quite observant and kind of Viktor. Yuuri was always rushing or too shy to look at passers-by right in the face for more than a second, and only paid attention when Vicchan approached them with a wagging tail.

“And you let Minami-kun play with you after his shift.” Minami Kenjirou was a relatively new intern at the hospital. He was a go-getter and positive in a way that Yuuri admired and was a little envious of, but even he had broken down when a little boy he had been caring for passed away.

“And you visited Pia a few times again, I saw you follow her and Mrs Garcia home.”

“I think Viktor is already good person, so…I don’t want you to purposely do anything for me. I just want you to stay who you are.”

Yuuri was so red that all the tomatoes in the world were put to shame. He stole a glance at Viktor.

Viktor was staring at him with wide eyes. Slowly, a smile spread across Viktor’s face.

“Okay, Yuuri.”

* * *

Even when the last of Viktor’s wounds and burns faded into pale scars, Yuuri couldn’t bear to suggest that he go back to his own home.

* * *

“Goodnight Yuuri! I’m going for a drink!” announced Viktor innocuously as he leaped off Yuuri’s balcony.

This happened roughly once every two weeks. The newspapers reported more vampire attacks but no deaths, no stalking and no ominous decor. 

* * *

Besides attending the occasional social event, the Nishigori family didn’t lead the leisurely life that other nobles did. Perhaps once upon a time their ancestors had, but the current head, Lord Nishigori Hiroshi, was a workaholic obsessed with expanding the family business, and expected his daughter and son-in-law to uphold the Nishigori reputation of constant striving for excellence.

Partly because of that and partly because Yuuri himself didn’t want to be useless, his days were filled with responsibilities. Work at the hospital, writing research papers once in a while, more work at the Nishigori Corporation, and visits to the slums and hovels at the edges of Caloberna to treat those who were too sick or too poor to move to the hospital in the city centre.

Being able to alleviate pain was rewarding, but on some days when patients breathed their last in his operating theatre or in their sickbeds despite his best efforts, Yuuri felt crushed by the voices in his head whispering _if you had tried harder, acted faster or noticed the symptoms earlier, they would have lived, how wrong they were to trust you with their lives, an incompetent doctor and incompetent surgeon you’re not good enough NOT GOOD ENOUGH——_

He awoke with a start and realised that his eyes were filled with tears.

It was dark around him, but a dim light filtered through the crack of the door which led to the study. For the first time since Viktor became a permanent fixture in his room, Yuuri wished he were alone. It was bad enough that he had to cry, and now he couldn’t even cry out loud because someone might notice. Burying his face in his pillow and pressing his lips shut tight, he pulled the blankets over his head to muffle any noises he let slip.

The edge of his bed dipped a little under a new weight and his heart sank alongside it. Of course a vampire with enhanced senses would notice that something was up. As Yuuri curled up tighter on his side and pretended that he wasn’t there, he felt a hand on his back.

Yuuri jolted away violently. He didn’t deserve comfort, and he hated that Viktor had intruded on his feelings when it was clear that he was trying not to rouse Viktor’s attention.

Viktor didn’t touch him again. The weight on his bed was removed.

Yuuri’s fingers gripped his pillow as he cried and cried under the sheets.

When he finally tired himself out, he lay in a blank daze for a while, before his brain stirred and mentioned that it was a good idea to clean up the messy wetness on his face.

He lethargically pulled the blankets off. To his shock, he was greeted by the sight of Viktor sitting on the floor beside the bed, staring at a box of tissues on his lap. Yuuri thought Viktor had left; his crying fit had lasted for so long.

Viktor looked up and fumbled with the box as he held it out to Yuuri. His other hand offered a handkerchief.

**{AUTHOR’S NOTE: brief writing style starts here}**

Viktor also gave Yuuri a glass of water. Yuuri was embarrassed now that his tears had run dry.

"I'm not good with people crying in front of me," said Viktor as Yuuri wiped his face. "I don't know what I should do." His brow creased with a tiny frown. "Should I just kiss you or something?"

"No!" Yuuri barked before he regained some semblance of composure. More calmly, he squeezed out: "You don't have to say anything. Just stay by my side." _Like you just did._

Eventually, he apologised for rejecting Viktor’s attempt at comfort so abruptly and explained that he didn’t want anyone to see that he was weak and not in control of himself.

Viktor asked why Yuuri thought so little of himself. Yuuri said that by now he should know – he did know – that he couldn’t save every patient under his responsibility, but sometimes he still felt like he should have done more. It was stupid because logically he knew that he couldn’t have done so in most cases, so he was upset for no reason, but it still hurt and that made him angrier at himself.

Viktor said: “Would you think Phichit weak if you learned that he cried sometimes when his patients died?”

Yuuri knew where Viktor was going with this, but he still replied: “…No.”

Viktor said: “So don’t treat yourself worse than you would treat your friend. Just tell me if you need some space, but I’m always here if you want to talk, or rant, or cry or anything. I just want to let you know that you can be yourself around me, in the way that I will “just be Viktor” around you, like you told me to. No double standards between us.”

Looking at Viktor’s forefinger curled carefully around Yuuri’s little finger, Yuuri thought: _when I open up, he meets me where I am._

* * *

Slowly, they fell in love (well, more in love).

* * *

“When you first talked about hearts at the ball, mine started to beat for you.”

“My myocardium is contracting for you, Yuuri, decades after my death.”

“Did you forget to put my heart back after you operated on me, doctor? ‘Cause my blood isn’t pumping. You’ve stolen my heart, I know it.”

“Viktor.” Yuuri was going to tell him to stop, but then he realised that he didn’t really want him to.

* * *

When Viktor looked a little too allured by Yuuri’s neck, Yuuri told him, blank-faced, “I will dissect you.”

* * *

Viktor gave Yuuri tickets for a musical: In Regard to Love. Two tickets were for them and the rest were for the other members of the Nishigori household. When Yuuri asked how he got the tickets, Viktor told him that he wrote the script and sold it to a director. Before going to the theatre, Viktor modified his hair colour and facial features and Yuuri informed the Nishigoris that he’ll be sitting elsewhere with the reclusive friend who provided the tickets.

The musical opened with a dedication from the anonymous scriptwriter “to the sweetest man I have ever met – my life and love”.

The plot was as follows: a beautiful Persian woman almost dies of sickness. A fairy bestows immortality and magical abilities upon her, but at a price; she must break a heart, driving her victim to despair, once a year for the rest of her life. If not, she will die. The woman seduces young men and women in her hometown and casts them aside once they have fallen for her, gaining an unsavoury reputation as a nigh unkillable witch and seductress. This forces her to move from town to town, nation to nation, in search of new victims.

Everywhere she goes, she is shunned due to widespread fear of her magical powers and condemnation of her exploits. Lonelier and lonelier as the decades pass, she questions the morality of what she does to prolong her life when some of her victims commit suicide in grief. She thinks of stopping, but fear of the unknown that awaits beyond the point of death makes her continue her conquests. She knows she is selfish, and a coward, but she persists in living.

The woman travels to India. While hunting for her next target at a festival, she meets the crown princess of the Maurya Empire. Initially, she thinks of preying on the princess, but as the night progresses, she finds that she might be falling in love. The woman cannot bear to break the princess’ heart, so she gives up on her plan and leaves the festival.

One day, the woman is pursued by a jilted lover mad with rage – a nobleman with a troop of soldiers under his command. She is captured and tortured, but eventually manages to use her powers to escape. Blindly, she flees and is rescued by the crown princess. To begin the process of healing her injuries, she needs to steal a heart. But the princess tells her: don’t worry, you have done more than that already; you have broken mine. The woman doesn’t understand, but the princess refuses to explain.

Under the princess’s care, the woman recovers. They fall deeply in love. They cannot not be together openly because it would tarnish the princess’ name, but in secret they spend six happy months together.

Then, news arrives. The princess’ fiancé, a prince from a neighbouring kingdom, has reached India to be with his future wife. The woman is shocked and devastated to learn that the princess has been promised to another since birth.

In tears, the princess says, “This is why I said that you have already broken my heart. Since the day of the festival, I have loved you selfishly even though I knew you could never be mine.”

The cursed woman thinks that this may be divine retribution for her actions. But she says: “If I could re-live my life and re-make the decisions I had to make, I would choose to love and lose you again.”

Yuuri cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, they get their happily ever after once the Lord Nishigori issue is resolved. You can imagine whatever you like if I never get the time to write how it happened in Part 2! 
> 
> Artist myfanworks created a happy pic and happy caption, how could the fic end badly?
> 
> Notes about things in the fic:  
> \- I got the medical stuff by Googling academic articles.  
> \- Caloberna was made from shuffling the alphabets in Barcelona…  
> \- Viktor seems like a stereotypical Communist in capitalist propaganda…attacking and robbing the bourgeoisie and disrupting the established system.  
> \- I made Seung-gil the new emperor stamping out the old regime, because he’s a math whiz. Imagine him doing large sums lighting fast in his head and grinding his teeth as he uncovers just how many expenses some nobles had incurred and placed on the nation’s tab, and how much money had seemingly disappeared from the accounting records.  
> \- US House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi eats dark chocolate ice cream for breakfast every day.  
> \- Ice cream is super old. I don’t know whether the first variation of ice cream appeared in Persia or China, different websites said different things, but I went with China here because the BBC (more established than blogs and some other websites) put China as the first country.  
> \- Viktor: I’d be a dog for you, literally  
> \- Roti is a flatbread originating from India, with variations in many countries.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome! Or if you just wanna ramble at me, that's fine too.
> 
> Here is my tumblr @[tentative-wanderer](https://tentative-wanderer.tumblr.com/), where I mostly reblog YOI stuff.


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